


ink

by InWayTooManyFandoms



Series: i'm just venting out my emotions [5]
Category: N/A - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:22:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23221666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InWayTooManyFandoms/pseuds/InWayTooManyFandoms
Summary: this is an old piece from last october. i found this and thought to post it before the one i wrote today
Series: i'm just venting out my emotions [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1198795
Kudos: 3





	ink

i promised myself i would go

but i am slipping

slipping back to old habits, old methods of keeping myself presentable to everyone. if i miss one event it doesnt matter, they can just think im arrogant. is that better than them knowing im weak?

weak. i dont like the vunerability it creates. i dont like vunerability. the feeling of being stripped bare to only myself

myself. i am empty without the pieces of my selves to colour in my self

i am in greyscale monochrome, and the world is too

im tired

im tired of trying, whats the point anyway

is this chapter in my life substantial or just a filler because the author felt pressured to give words, not yet ready to unveil the progression of the story line

maybe the main plot has yet to start, and we are still setting the scene. maybe its over and they dont want it to end yet. the readers dont want it to end yet. theres possibility for more, they say

they will write their own versions too, their interpretation of this story. their version of me

maybe i'll slide like words off the page, into a puddle of ink

the ink creates words, its only fitting that the words become just ink again. they always were, always will

words dont form when i want them to. stuck in my throat. stuck in my head. stuck

i want to know how i feel. why is it that the words cant appear

it feels like im being stripped bare. like the selves ive curated are being crumpled, tossed aside

im losing

how ironic, i think to myself. youre writing, and writing needs words

maybe these words will slide away too. slide into the depths of the forgotten. to rest in the darkness

its hard to read in the dark

hard to make out the words

the words dont form as easy in the dark

its dark here


End file.
